d burning eyes of the Moro. It was
manifest that Matak had overheard Lan Yek. He stood in the doorway
battling for his voice.

"Master," he said huskily, "I knew you would help me find him."

Gratitude suffused his face, then receded before the tide of
Mohammedan fanaticism and fury which welled up from his bitter heart.
Stepping backward, he kept his eyes fastened upon Terry till he had
passed through the door into the kitchen.

Terry was deeply disturbed by this unforeseen turn of events. He had
decided against informing Matak until he had lodged Malabanan safely
behind prison walls, then to confront him with the Moro and if he
proved to be Matak's long sought enemy, he would add the charge of
triple murder against the desperado. The day of private vengeance must
pass in Mindanao--vengeful killings were murder, punishable as murder.

He called to Matak, then again, but there was no answer. He hurried
into the kitchen, into Matak's room, then down into the double stable
back of the house. But Matak was gone, and so was Terry's spare pony.
Realizing the futility of searching for him in the night, he composed
himself as best he could. It added another phase to the
exigency--everything now rested with the patrols who were tirelessly
combing the Gulf to discover the new rendezvous.

He strove for patience, but waiting is hard. He picked up a volume of
poems, discarded it impatiently for a magazine, threw this back on the
table and withdrew from the glare of the lamp which added to his
insistent headache. Looking out on the dark town he saw that even the
Club was unlighted, the first time since his arrival in Davao. His jaw
tightened as he pictured the isolated planters sitting through the
night, rifles on knees, listening for hostile movements in the jungle
surrounding their hardwon acres.

Drawing up a big cane chair he sat in the shadow looking out into the
dark. The sky was like a vast black colander perforated haphazardly
with a myriad brilliant openings which paled and glowed. The crescent
of the young moon hung over the faintly outlined mountains: he watched
it slant slowly down till its lower point was absorbed in the heavy
mist which blanketed Apo.

Malabanan loose with his ravaging band ... Matak, alone, searching for
him in the night ... Ledesma's daughter, that gentle, big-eyed girl,
at the mercy of such beasts ... would the patrols never return? He
rose and paced the floor, frantic with the enforced ina